


It is only fair

by Ivartheboneme



Series: Harald Finehair and Halfdan the Black [2]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Cock & Ball Torture, F/M, Face Slapping, Knifeplay, sub!halfdan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 22:44:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10863633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivartheboneme/pseuds/Ivartheboneme
Summary: I got a tumblr request for a Halfdan the Black imagine, later someone suggested that it could contain Harald teasing Halfdan for the way he tries to court a woman.Hope you like it, anon! :)





	It is only fair

”I thought you said you know more about women than me, brother.” The sound of his older brother speaking to him makes Halfdan snap out of his thoughts.

”What makes you think that I don't?” He grunts in response. Harald laughs and wraps an arm around his brother's shoulder, nodding in the direction of the tall brunette.

”That woman, how does she react when she catches you staring?” Halfdan thinks for a moment, a smirk spreading over his face as he thinks back to all the stolen glances from the last week.

”She meets my gaze; she holds it.” Harald sighs deeply, like he can't believe his brother's stupidity. 

”And yet you stand here daydreaming? You are Viking and the brother of a king; stop acting like an infatuated boy and go take her.” He scolds. Halfdan turns from her for a moment to reciprocate his brother's embrace. As he frees himself and begins to move towards her, Harald slaps his back in an encouraging gesture. Halfdan turns to look over his shoulder and offers up a grin before confidently striding towards the woman that he was determined to make his.

She has discarded her armour and is wearing the same simple trousers as she did during the battle and a loose shirt that makes him wonder what she's hiding under there. A trickle of sweat runs down her neck as she helps with unloading some of the treasure. For once, it seems that she doesn't notice him staring. She doesn't react until he is only a few steps away.

”What is your name?” He asks bluntly, taking his brother's words to heart. She tilts her head to the side and looks at him with what looks like amusement.

”I think you already know that.” At first, he is a bit unsettled by her cocky response but then he reminds himself that this is what makes her intriguing; the innocent face hiding someone strong-willed, someone entirely different from the soft-minded women who offered themselves up in the hopes of snaring a king's brother. Halfdan nods.

”Brynja.” He confirms. She finally steps away from the wagon that she's been unloading and comes close enough for him to feel her breath tickle his cheek.

”It sure took you long to come talk to me.” Halfdan is about to find out just how strong-willed she is.

He follows her inside the tent that he knows she shares with a group of other women. She guides him to her bed and they stop there, facing each other. She smiles at him and it looks so sweet on the surface but underneath it he can see the wickedness that had captured his attention when he first noticed her; he can't wait any longer. He closes the distance between them and begins to pull at her clothes while his mouth hungrily descends to the side of her neck. He is just about to take a mouthful of her sweat-soaked skin when her palm clashes against his cheek. The slap has more power behind it than he had thought possible, even for such a fierce warrior as she, and he stumbles backward until he lands on the bed. She towers above him, looking down on him while licking her lips. He is still in shock from the slap but the sight of her tongue teasing over her bottom lip makes him let out a small groan and he can feel his cock begin to strain against his pants.

“You took you time with me, made me wait; so it is only fair that I do the same to you.” She leans down, her upper body hovering above him without letting them brush against each other “That means no touching until I say so.” She stands up straight again and Halfdan watches with wide eyes as she slowly reveals more of her skin. The muddied pants lands in a pile around her ankles. She frees herself of the bunched up clothing and moves her fingers to the hem of her shirt. Halfdan lets out a growl as her midriff is exposed; she has an intricate tattoo covering her left ribs and he can't stop himself from lunging into an upright position and grasping after her. She shoves him back onto the bed and before he can react her foot is between his legs, lightly pressing down on his manhood. What is she doing? Her outstretched leg and bunched up shirt offers him a good view of the dark curls between her legs and he finds himself strangely aroused in spite of the humiliation he's being put through.

“Hold still.” To his surprise he finds himself nodding rapidly in agreement with her command while his chest heaves in excitement. He could've just grabbed her leg, forced her down on the ground and taken her but no; for some reason this seemed better. She removes her foot and returns to pulling the shirt over her head. He can see the battle scars on her body now; one long on her right shoulder and a few smaller ones on her arms. He wants to trace them with his tongue while mocking the men who had marked her like this; mock them because she still lived and they had fallen to her axe and sword. Without warning, she straddles him; her wet core grinding against his thickness through the soft fabric of his pants. He is so focused on the feeling of her rocking against his erection that he doesn't notice how she pulls a knife from under the pillow. Then she places the edge against the neckline of his shirt and he freezes.

“You sleep with a knife under your pillow, woman?” He asks, voice full of admiration. She bares her teeth in a wide smile.

“You never know who might come into your tent at night. Now be quiet.” She then proceeds to slicing through his shirt while he tries to stay completely still. Once she has cut it open she slides off him and orders him to remove the remains of it; he eagerly complies.

“Now the pants.” She says and cuts through the lacing in one swift moment. Halfdan twitches nervously at the sensation of the blade so close to his cock, making her chuckle as she retracts the blade.

“My clothes are ruined. Do you mean for me to walk out of here naked?” He asks, not sure if the thought is more strange or more arousing. It was the wrong thing to ask. The edge comes to rest against the outline of his tattoo, right above his eyebrow.

“Are you ashamed of being with me? Of people finding out?” She asks quietly with a storm brewing in her eyes.

“No, of course not.” He rasps. She leans in to whisper in his ear.

“Pants. Off.” She pulls back a little but makes sure that he can see the blade out of the corner of his eye while he finishes undressing. Once he is completely naked she lets out what he assumes is a pleased purring noise and the bed shifts as she moves on top of him again. She wraps an arm around his neck and then places the knife on the covers next to them and he can see the warning clear in her eyes; don't even think about it. Her now free hand goes to his cock to help him line up and the feeling of her fingers finally wrapping around him is almost enough to make him climax right there and then. She sees the way he is struggling to hold back and warns him.

“If you come before me, I get to cut you.” It is more of a statement than a question and once again he finds himself nodding in agreement instead of just overpowering her. He groans loudly as she allows him inside her. They move slowly together, dragging out each stroke for as long as possible and he struggles to keep to her rhythm. The stern look on her face fades away more and more and soon she grabs his hand, bringing it between their bodies. He finds her clit and starts to circle it , taking heed of her warning that she was to come first. He works his fingers between her legs, stroking and circling until she is writhing on top of him and shrieking his name like a curse word. He doesn't have the patience to wait until she's settled down and so he sets a new furious pace, bucking up into her while she clings on to his broad shoulders. He stutters between her legs with a low grunt. As he settles down, he lets the hand at her left hip wander further up to explore the tattoo but she moves quickly on top of him and the knife touches against his cheek. Her head is buried at his shoulder but the words are still easy to hear.

“I didn't say you could do that.”


End file.
